


Unexpected Villains and Damsels in Distress

by thedauntlessgirlat221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3973282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedauntlessgirlat221b/pseuds/thedauntlessgirlat221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My version of the story based off of this Tumblr Post:<br/>“'I couldn't bear the idea of you being dead. For three years I thought everyday would be my last. So many times I stared at my gun, the knife, the rope, the roof. But then I realized how stupid it would be for me to take my own life. So stupid because I knew you were alive. Out there. Somewhere. But you still never came. So I decided to look for a way to lure you back here. What better way than this?' John Watson smirked, knife in hand, a pile of dead bodies at his feet. 'Welcome back, Sherlock'”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Villains and Damsels in Distress

**Author's Note:**

> So This is my first fic ever so please go easy on me! I used some headcannons from BBCSherlockHeadcannon, so not every single idea is mine... I know there are parts of this that could use some work so some KIND suggestions would be awesome. So here you guys go....

**“I couldn't bear the idea of you being dead. For three years I thought everyday would be my last. So many times I stared at my gun, the knife, the rope, the roof. But then I realized how stupid it would be for me to take my own life. So stupid because I knew you were alive. Out there. Somewhere. But you still never came. So I decided to look for a way to lure you back here. What better way than this?” John Watson smirked, knife in hand, a pile of dead bodies at his feet. “Welcome back, Sherlock”**

Sherlock Holmes stood still staring at the sight before him. The good of the world destroyed by him. He should have known. No traces of the missing, each with something suspicious in their backgrounds ranging from serial adultery to murder charges. John Watson, covered in blood and holding the knife Sherlock gave him as a birthday present. Sherlock, the one who finds celebrations and parties illogical and irrelevant. He remembered that day. He screwed things up with John and his girlfriend of the week, Jeenie or Jeanne. The knife was his apology. This wasn't just any pocket knife, John had a military and a medical background a normal pocket knife wouldn't do. The expensive knife had a strong blade that wouldn't rust and was a bit larger than a blade in your everyday pocket knife. The blade so pure and barely used is now coated in blood. “John…” “Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock… You did this. I asked you once not to be dead.” “John, What did you do?” “What did I do?! You let me think you were dead for three years, THREE years, Sherlock! One little sign, a deer stalker, a note, a fucking smiley face in yellow paint would have been enough! Where were you Sherlock?! I was a wreck, then I met Mary, but then she left me. You could have prevented this, we could have stopped this evil...” John gestures to the dead lying around him. “You could have stopped me, stopped these bloody arseholes from the damage they caused.” Sherlock stood speechless, John Watson was gone. This was a monster, a calculating, cruel, monster. That’s who stood before Sherlock, a monster. “How did Lastraude not catch you?” “Who would suspect me? You didn't even guess it was me. Killing a man is easy, its the not getting caught part that’s hard. Oh, Sherlock I've spent enough time with you on cases and Molly in the morgue to catch a few fine details.” Molly, it would crush her to know what John has done.

“...Damsel in distress.” Sherlock hasn't heard a word John has said, but his phrasing couldn't terrify him more. Moriarty was the “good old-fashioned villain”. Don’t be Molly… Don’t be Molly… Don’t be Molly… John’s dark chuckle vibrates through Sherlock’s skull. “Always the smartest yet most oblivious person in the room. Tell me, Sherlock, how long did it take you to realize you were in love with her?” Sherlock grits his teeth and growls, “Where is she?!” “Where’s the fun in that?” Sherlock’s pulse begins to race, so this is panic. He wants to hit John to scream at him, to make him say where Molly is. “John, don’t do this...” “Don’t do what Sherlock? I already told you, you could have prevented all of this.” “But Molly, why Molly?” “Why wouldn't I choose Molly? She tried to create relationships with you with those terrible lookalike boyfriends and then you, Sherlock. You wronged a lot of people Sherlock. I think the moment I finally knew and accepted your feelings for her was when you two were dancing in the morgue.” John lets out a disgusted chuckle. Sherlock remembered that day very well, it’s probably one of his most treasured memories. Sherlock had always noticed the way Molly would turn on the balls of her feet or move in a very graceful, precise way, but he had recently found out she used to take ballet. He has also learned she stopped due to her lack of self-confidence and the other children’s jealousy at her natural born talent. That day she had seemed so sad and not her usual self so Sherlock had asked Molly to dance. She was surprised at first and tried to talk Sherlock out of it, he then ruined the moment by stating a rather rude deduction about her dancing and why she quit. When she tried to flee the room with tears in her eyes Sherlock grabbed her wrist, apologized, and led her into their first dance. They both assumed that nobody had saw.

Where would John stash Molly? 221B is too obvious, it would be somewhere meaningful, somewhere John think would hurt Sherlock. The roof of St. Barts or Sherlock’s own grave. The grave doesn't have any immediate danger while on the other hand the roof is the exact opposite. “She’s at Bart’s…” “If only it was that simple…” John’s taunts at Sherlock’s deduction causes Sherlock’s stomach to drop. John has an accomplice, but who would help him? Who would be smart enough to not get caught? Anderson was hurt by Sherlock’s “suicide”, but he isn't crafty enough to be his accomplice. Who would want to torture Sherlock? Moran. Sebastian Moran. Sherlock had gone to boarding school with Moran. He was one of the “popular” kids, until Sherlock outed him. Moran was gay, Sherlock to this day still doesn't understand why that mattered. Who cares what you are attracted to? But since that day Moran was ruined, or so he claimed. He had held a grudge against Sherlock, he must have befriended John. “John, I’m so-”.

“Don’t you even dare! You have no right to apologize!” Sherlock knew that John was being irrational and under normal circumstances he would have called John out on it, but now he had to figure out how to stop him and save Molly. “What happened with Mary?” John scoffs and gives a glare that would have sent any other being, human or not, running in fear. “Why are you so worried about Molly?” John pauses and continues, “She fell in love with Sherlock Holmes’s blogger, when you ‘died’ something in me broke. You were my best friend, you saved me from myself, but then you were gone. Mary tried to help me, but the more I spiraled the more I pushed her away.” John reaches up to pull the gold chain from under his shirt, hanging like a pendant is a small engagement ring. “She threw it at me that night, said she couldn't live like that, and that she will always love me. Then she left 221. I wanted to go after her, but what could I do to fix it? By the time I pulled myself together she was dead. There was a drunk driver, he hit her and kept going. Now the only two people in the world that could help me, save me once again were gone.” Sherlock’s heart broke to see his best friend so obviously distressed. “John, I understand…” “NO YOU DON’T! DON’T YOU EVEN TRY! Maybe if Molly is gone you’ll get it, but don’t you even try act like you understand. You’re a ‘sociopath’, remember? You don’t have friends, better yet a girlfriend.” Sherlock winces as John throws his own words in his face.

Molly pulled her white lab coat closer to her shivering body. She can’t help but to think standing on a rooftop in January isn't the best Idea, but it also wasn't hers. Moran is sitting on the air conditioning unit, his gun sitting in his hand. “W-why don’t-t-t-t. you j-j-just-t-t have m-m-me j-j-jump already?” Molly admonishes herself for the stutter, but she’s terrified and freezing. The disgusting man slowly looks at Molly. Sebastian Moran is the opposite of James Moriarty, in every way. Moriarty was smooth and attractive, he knew all of the right things to say and how to play a character, this man can’t do any of that. “Now Molls, Where’s the fun in that?” “Do not call me that!” The stutter in her voice gone now that anger and irritation has replaced the fear and cold. “Oh, I see. Only that Consulting Detective of yours gets to call you that.” Molly silently prays that Sherlock will find her and soon. Tonight was supposed to be special, Molly had to tell him- “Lost in your thoughts, Darling?” “Look, my name is Molly, Molly Hooper, or Doctor Hooper if you prefer.” The terms of endearment and nicknames that mostly came from Sherlock now made her feel dirty and uncomfortable coming from Moran’s mouth. “My apologies, Doctor Hooper.” Where’s Sherlock? Molly looks at her watch, she’s an hour late. Usually when she’s late she gives him a call, he eventually became used to the custom and he would call to check on her if she forgot to let him know of her tardiness. Slowly memories begin to hit her. Sherlock admitting that part of his cruelty towards her was to see how hard he’d have to press for her to finally snap after she finally did. She screamed with tears running down her face, but she can honestly never remember seeing Sherlock with such a horrified expression on his face. She also had never heard him apologize and mean it, he was almost in tears from seeing the hurt in her eyes. She smiles at the memory of when she realized she was in love with him. There was a small girl about two years old at a crime scene, for whatever reason the girl attached herself to Sherlock. After trying in vain to get her to leave him alone he ended up picking up the toddler and carrying her around as he helped Lestrade with the case. At some point he carried the girl to her swing set in that backyard and he sang to her as he rocked back and forth on the swing with her. “Why are you coming after me?” Moran gives her a smile that makes her stomach drop to her shoes. “Every fairytale has to have a damsel in distress…”

“You think I wanted to fake my death…” Sherlock’s deductions are obvious, but they’re helping him to understand John. John sneers, “You did. You got to start over. You got a whole new life, except you brought mousy little Molly Hooper into your new life, but even she got a new role. Didn't she?” “What do you want me to say, John? Alright, yes. I feel in love with Doctor Molly Hooper. She helped me fake my death. Only she and Mycroft knew about my plan. Do you honestly think I wanted to leave my best friend? Leave my second mother? Leave the only life I've ever known?” “You wouldn't have done it if there wasn't some small shred of you that wanted to. Sherlock, If you wanted to ‘live’ you would have.” “How, John, how? Moriarty had snipers on you, Mrs. Hudson, and my parents. There was no way to save you all after he shot himself. They were under orders to shoot if I didn't jump.” “THREE YEARS, SHERLOCK! You were gone for three years!” “I wasn't stupid! I knew that Moriarty’s network was still around! I had to pull the network down before I could even contemplate coming back!” “Convenient excuses from the man who is legendary for manipulation and who has drugged me on more than one occasion.” “I admit you were to subject of many experiments, but when did I ever lie to you?”

Molly stares out at the city below her and she unconsciously places her hand on her slightly swollen abdomen. “He knocked you up, didn't he?” Moran’s mocking tone causes pure fire to ignite in her veins. Molly thinks back to her days in school and smiles. She begins to hum the first few bars of Under The Sea simply to spite the bastard. She remembered the other kids singing that song to a classmate until he cried, all because his name was Sebastian. “Knock it off.” Moran’s barely contained anger only spurs Molly on and she continues to hum the children’s song, just a little bit louder.”I said knock it off.” His anger was amusing Molly, she knew she shouldn't antagonize the man who was pointing a gun at her, but in that moment she didn't care. She began to sing. “We got the spirit, you got to hear it. Under the sea.” SMACK Moran’s palm cracks across Molly’s cheekbone. The blood rush stains her cheek red and she knows that there will be a bruise. Moran looks horrified then he begins to seethe with anger. He knows that she was manipulating him, pushing his buttons, but he let it get the better of him. He looks at her and growls through gritted teeth, “Knock it off, Doctor Hooper.”

Sherlock knows that he has to have the element of surprise when it comes rescuing Molly from Moran. How? If he reaches for his phone to call Lestrade John will attack him and/or tell Moran to harm or kill Molly. Sherlock carries throwing knives, the thin and discrete blades can be deadly. But can he do it? Can Sherlock Holmes kill his blogger, his best friend? But John Watson is neither of those things anymore. Sherlock starts to slide the blade from its hiding place in his coat sleeve. “John do you remember playing Monopoly?” John lets out a small laugh, “Since when are you sentimental? Yes, I remember and I remember having to call the fire department.” Sherlock flings the blade and shuts his eyes as John Watson falls the the dirty alley floor with a thud.

Molly is still standing on the roof when she feels off. Something isn't right. Well obviously something isn't right she’s standing on the roof of St. Barts with a homicidal stranger that was working with her homicidal friend. Moran told her the whole story, he did what every villain has done in every movie and told you his and John’s plan. Molly is sure that Sherlock is having a showdown with John now and she can only hope that her boyfriend will make it out alive and that somehow Lestrade will come to her aid.

Sherlock grabs his phone and dials Scotland Yard with shaking fingers. He tells the Detective Inspector everything he knows as he climbs into a cab. He asks the driver to get to St. Barts as fast as he can and he hopes that he isn't too late.

Molly sees the red stain forming on Moran’s shirt, but she didn't hear the shot. She begins to panic. Finally she sees the familiar faces of Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan. She knows, she knows that John Watson is dead. That's why she had that awkward feeling. She rushes forward, “Where’s Sherlock?” Lestrade places his palms on her shoulders and looks into her warm brown eyes, “Molly, relax. He’s on his way. C’mon.” Her puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her away from the corpse and the roof. He doesn't relinquish his hold until they’re out of the front doors and she is looked at by the medics. An ugly orange blanket is draped over her shoulders “for the shock”.

Sherlock steps out of the cab and locks eyes with his girlfriend. He quickly scans over her for injuries and he sees the bruise forming on her face. He becomes angry, but he swallows that emotion and continues to look over her and when he deduces no more injuries he exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding. She flings the blanket from her shoulders and runs straight into his arms. He kisses her and it’s the most intimate kiss they have ever shared in public. Sherlock lays his head in the crook of her neck and he stops trying to fight the tears. A medic comes and tries to convince Molly to go with them. They want her to get checked out by a doctor and everyone knows that no one will be making the trip to Barts in the near future if they can avoid it. She waves them off and tries to comfort her boyfriend.

Sherlock cries because Molly is finally safe. This woman, his love, brought him to tears. He cries for John Watson, the man he drove over the edge. He had to kill John, he would have killed Molly. He pulled Molly into his chest trying to comfort them both, but now she is stroking his curls trying to calm him. He remembers Mycroft telling him emotions were a disadvantage, and he is right… Sometimes emotions are a disadvantage, he ignored the warning signs in John for so long because his emotions clouded his judgement, but he couldn't imagine a life without Molly. A life not loving her, all he wants to do it go back to their flat and for lack of a better term cuddle, to assure himself that she is alive, that she is here. “Sherlock…” He could hear the tears in her voice. “I’m sorry Molly, so very sorry.” He reaches up and lightly trails his fingers over the bruise on her cheekbone. “I-I think I should go with the medics…” Sherlock pulls away and even though he’s done it once he looks for any injuries he might have missed, but the only one he sees is the bruise from where that bastard slapped her. “You’re fine Molls, just come home.” Her big brown eyes show a hint of fear and apprehension. “I’m not worried about me…” Molly looks up to the blue-green eyes that belong to Sherlock and continues on. “Sherlock, I’m pregnant.” His eyes widen and immediately dart to her stomach. “P-pregnant?” Molly still has the hint of fear in her voice, “I was going to tell you tonight over dinner.” Rapid fire deductions and fantasies dart through his mind. He can see the baby now, the spitting image of its mother, but with its father's eyes. The child would be so very bright, but kind as well. Sherlock’s mind is running away as Molly’s scared, small voice interrupts his thoughts. “Sherlock?” He takes one look at the mother of his child and leans in to kiss her. He’s faintly aware of the catcalls and hoots of the officers, but he doesn't care. Molly pulls away and blushes, “You’re not upset?” Sherlock smiles, “Never, Molly. Never.” He leans down and kisses her quickly on the mouth.


End file.
